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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503181">I saw the light</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenFruits513/pseuds/ForbiddenFruits513'>ForbiddenFruits513</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown &amp; King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Body Dysphoria, Demons, F/M, Light Angst, Male-Female Friendship, Near Death Experiences, beetlejuice musical universe, smut in later chapters, theaters are always haunted</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 18:20:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22503181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenFruits513/pseuds/ForbiddenFruits513</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I worked normal shifts at a local theater as a theater tech, focusing on the flys. It was always a fun time during tech week, ironing out logistics. But you're always just one mistake away from the other side. I blame that damned theater ghost for everything....</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adam Maitland &amp; Barbara Maitland, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/Reader, Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. I never signed up for this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today started just like any other day. I woke up bright and early, got my shower, caught the bus to the theater, stopped for coffee and breakfast, and went to work on rigging set pieces to some flys. Same as usual. I'd lived in the city all 28 years of my life. Travel was easy and relatively cheap, rent was manageable, and I had my dream job. I didn't have too much to complain about. I went to college after high school for theater tech since i didn't have a chance in hell at getting an acting job. Plus the pay was better.</p><p>The only thing that even made me remotely upset was this damned theater ghost we apparently had. It had to be some sort of trickster spirit- or a mischievous tech or actor at best. Props would randomly go missing and end up in places where they very much <em>shouldn't</em> be. Costumes would be discovered ripped or drenched in some sort of ink or makeup. Most of the actors joked with was the phantom of the opera, which was even more annoying than the actual ghost theory. The fact of the matter was random, annoying shit was happening on the daily and no one could explain it. It only ever angered me when the pranks happened to me and my area of the theater. Extra rope would be tossed around the scaffolding, carabiner clips would go missing, and electronics would randomly start turning on and off. I tried to look at the positives- none of the ghostly goings on were dangerous. So far, it only succeeded in drawing a frustrated sigh out of me. </p><p>Some days were worse than others. There was one day where i had a panic attack because I couldn't find a single carabiner so I couldn't work on the catwalks. That put me back an entire day of work. I was lucky I had other tasks to get done that day.</p><p>Today was the start of tech week- or "hell week" as we called it in the business. You have never seen a closer representation of chickens running around with their heads chopped off. Every tech manager and the assistant director and director all rushing to get things where they need to go. My job was to secure set pieces that needed to raise into the fly space and time it with set changes. It was like clockwork. It was nothing I hadn't done before. Runthrough after runthrough, adjusting as needed, making sure actors know where to steer clear. Other than the usual hiccups, everything was running pretty smoothly. Lunch time came quickly. Most of the staff either went to a nearby eatery or went backstage. I preferred to eat on the stage. I had brought my own sandwich from home. My good friend and coworker, Markia, joined me. We chatted about things that still needed done as well as the next production we'd like to do at the theater. We caught up on what we did over the weekend and laughed about various shenanigans. She was one of my oldest friends. We had history all the way back to high school. There's nothing I wouldn't tell her or do for her because she was my sister from another mister. </p><p>After checking our watches, we cleaned up and went to start getting back to work. A rocking sound caught my attention from above. I thought maybe there was someone up on the catwalk so I looked up- only to see a light about to fall onto Markia's head. I ran to her and pushed her out of the way as I heard the click of it detaching from the rigging. I don't remember much after that. Everything went black. But I do remember screaming... and a voice. A voice I'd never heard before. It was rough and gravelly and apologetic.</p><p>"No no no! Babes you have to stay! Please stay..."</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Whole Being Dead Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Welp... I guess that happened</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was nothingness. An endless sea of black. It didn't matter if my eyes were open or closed, there was nothing to see. One second seemed like an eternity. Time was different here. Had I been here for an hour? A day? A millenia? Where was "here?" I floated on the endless sea of nothing, weightless. My eyes closed as I heard the distant sound of voices. They all sounded so worried. What were they worried about?</p><p>"Y/N! You're gonna be alright!" Markia...Oh... Right. I got hit with a stage light. Huh. Ironic for someone floating in the endless expanse of darkness. I didn't feel anything- no pain, no emotion. just... nothing.</p><p>"Her pulse is dropping!" Well, that didn't sound good. Was this really what dying felt like? Cold nothingness? Eh well. It was better than suffering a long, painful, horrendous death. </p><p>"You. Can't. Die." That voice again, so raspy and gravelly. Who was that? Did they smoke a pack a day from the day they were born? Why did they care so much? I didn't know that voice. I opened my eyes. There was a tiny light in the distance that was slowly getting larger... closer. Even from a distance, it was almost blinding. I shielded my eyes with my hands, looking away. "Don't die..." I mean, I didn't want to die. Who actually wants to die? Really, who would want their obituary to read "They were killed by a falling stage light?" Shit I hadn't made my will. A long tone, screeching in the distance, like a bad case of tinnitus. Oh fuck, the light was rushing towards me and I had nowhere to run. I closed my eyes tight until the light encompassed me and I could no longer avoid it. Hesitantly my eyelids fluttered open. I was floating above my body. Oh... Fuck. The doctors rushed around me, attempting CPR on my lifeless body. Another doctor rolled over the defibrillator, rubbing the pads together and charging it.</p><p>"We're losing her! Hurry with the defib!" Everything was a flurry of activity around my battered and bloodied body. This was it. I was dying. It was over.</p><p>"This wasn't supposed to happen." That voice. I looked to the foot of the bed and saw the strangest looking guy I'd ever seen floating a few feet in the air. His hair was a rats nest of red hair and his eyes were a stunning glowing yellow. He wore a filthy striped suit that was worn in places, growing moss in other places. He was so pale, with scruff on his jaw and a slight pudge to his belly. He radiated red and anger, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes stared at my still body, refusing to meet my gaze. </p><p>"I'm sorry, but- who are you?" The doctors shocked my body to no response. The strangers eyes finally met mine. Oh, oh heck-he was kinda cute. </p><p>"Wish I could tell ya. Long story." Another shock. This time, a response sounded through the EKG. The soft beep of a steady heartbeat met my ears and my chest rose and fell. I watched, enthralled, as a chain of light emerged from my unconscious body and connected to my spirit form. </p><p>"She's in a coma, but she's stable." I looked from the chain to this mystery man, watching as his hair slowly changed from the burning red to a lovely shade of neon green, his fists unclenching and going to his face. A long, relieved sigh slipped past his lips through his hands. Huh... guess his hair reflected his mood.</p><p>"You're going to live. Fucking hell, scared the shit out of me," he growled, pulling a cigarette out of thin air and lighting it. I was about to protest his smoking in the hospital- then I realized no one could see him, or me. The doctors started hurriedly rushing me to different rooms for different tests and scans. He had finished his cigarette by the time we had rolled into the CAT scan room. The entire trip around the hospital up to that point had been pregnant with an awkward silence. I couldn't take it anymore.</p><p>"Sooo... about that name?" His head snapped up from looking at my body, his eyes meeting mine. Fuck those eyes were so gorgeous. </p><p>"Oh... yeah. Uh, here," he grumbled while rifling through his pockets. He eventually produced a business card from said pocket and handed it to me. My eyes scanned the small piece of cardboard.</p><p>"Beetlejuice? That's... that's a name. Is that your full name?" I slipped the card into my pocket for keeps.</p><p>"Well, no. My first name is Lawrence. Last name's Shoggoth. It's a demon thing. Middle names are usually used for summoning." My eyebrows shot up and my jaw dropped. </p><p>"Oh! A d-demon? What do I owe the uh pleasure?" He didn't look like any demon I had ever seen before- or at least representations of them. He didn't have horns, no tail, no hooves. He just looked like a guy with yellow contacts. I mean, he had the allure of a demon, I suppose. Streaks of blue crept into his green mop of hair.</p><p>"Not to sound like a softie, but you're one of the few breathers I actually like in that stuffy theater." I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. Oh fun, a cute demon liked me. "Unfortunately, that putz of a ghost that hired me took matters into their own hands. Normally, I'd be all for some killing people, but I've turned over a new leaf recently and would rather NOT have anyone's blood on my hands." I held up my hands to slow him down. All of this just raised even more questions.</p><p>"Hold up, there, Beej. Hired? Another ghost? No killing? I don't even know where to begin," I stuttered, trying to comprehend all the information flowing into my ear holes. Demons are about pain. He was a floating contradiction.</p><p>"Okay okay okay. Let me start over- your theater has a ghost in it. He's wanted you guys out for a really long time. Old caretaker. So he hired me to help him try to scare you guys away. Well, while I wasn't looking, he fiddled with the bolts holding that light together." He ran his fingers through his hair, grumbling something about how he specifically agreed not to injure anyone. "So yeah, that's what happened. Any other questions?" I shook my head.</p><p>We floated along with my body as they wheeled me to intensive care. Apparently I had no brain damage, but I'd need surgery to fix damaged sinuses and also get a cast for my broken wrist. Some other damage included a cracked orbital bone, some brain swelling that they had to keep an eye on, and some shallow lacerations on the broken wrist. As long as I made it out of the coma, I'd make a full recovery. </p><p>"So Beej. You're dead," I inquired. He nodded. "How did you die? I mean, you're a demon, so I guess I'm still a little confused about... everything." He sighed and flung his head back with a groan.</p><p>"It's a long story, babes." I shrugged and motioned to my body in the bed.</p><p>"I'm not really going anywhere. I'd like to get to know you a little better." The tips of his hair slowly tinged pink much like his cheeks. I made a note of it mentally because that color looked really good on him. </p><p>"I'll warn you now; I'm not proud of some of the shit I've done. But hey- demon." I nodded and waved him on to continue. He then proceeded to tell me about how he was born in the Netherworld, about his mom, the Maitlands and the Deetzes, and everything that transpired with them. Including the whole green card marriage thing. He had lived for such a short time. It was the first time he had actually felt anything. </p><p>"Do you feel anything now," I asked him, my head resting on my hands as I listened intently. His eyes met mine and a long silence followed as if he had to really consider the question.</p><p>"Sometimes." I couldn't help but stare into those yellow orbs. His eyes just captivated me. I apparently stared at him longer than I thought. "See something you like babes?" I blinked and looked away with a blush. </p><p>"I-uh, I mean you're eyes are really pretty. Sorry." The cotton candy pink at the tips of his hair spread to his roots as he ducked his head with a low chuckle. </p><p>"Let's get her to surgery." The doctors briskly walked into my room and started preparing me for another switch in rooms. </p><p>"Off to surgery, Bug man. Are you coming," I called after him as they started wheeling me away. </p><p>"Nah. I have some things I need to do. I'll be here waiting for you when you get out." I shrugged and floated alongside my body as we traversed the halls. "Hey, Y/N!" I looked behind me and saw Beetlejuice in the door to my room. "Don't die on me."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Dirty Bug Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Getting to know the Ghost with the Most</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry for the delay all!! College had me stressed and I hit a huge wall of depression and writers block.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time moves differently when you're in limbo. When you're engaged, time seems to move at a normal rate. But when you disengage, suddenly-five hours pass like five minutes. It's very jarring. While the doctors worked on me, I took some time to think about, well, everything. First and foremost- the fact that there's life after death. There was a netherworld and ghosts existed. I always kinda believed that they did, but that validation was so bittersweet. And here I was in a weird limbo. I thought I'd see more dead people since I could see Beej.</p><p>Beetlejuice. What a strange dead guy. He was such an enigma. A born-dead demon, disowned by his own mother, shunned by everyone else. I couldn't even imagine being so... invisible. He seemed pretty decent to me. Maybe a bit lacking in the personal hygiene department, perhaps a bit vulgar. But I've dealt with worse people in the theater business. Maybe I just needed to spend more time with him. It would keep me sane, after all. I didn't know how long I'd be stuck like this. I figured he had known me much longer than I'd known him since he'd likely been at the theater since before I'd even been hired. His eyes haunted me whenever I thought back to him. Those two yellow orbs were so full of emotion. I wondered what he was like outside of his constant worrying. </p><p>I sighed as the doctors finished sewing me up, humming a tune that had been stuck in my head since I had emerged from my body as they wheeled me to my recovery room. It was actually kind of nice that no one could see or hear me because by the time they reached my room, I was full out singing the song. It was Bad Romance by Lady Gaga. I didn't even notice Beetlejuice waiting by the window as I finished the song. He was sitting on the window sill gazing at me with shocked eyes.</p><p>"Wow, babes. Didn't know you had a set of pipes on you. I'm just used to you yelling at people to get off your flys." I felt a blush blossom across my cheeks as I hid my face in my hands in embarrassment. I felt his hands pulling mine away from my face as he reassured me. "Hey hey hey! It's nice! It's a nice change! Geez, why so embarrassed? Never performed for someone before?" I shook my head. </p><p>"I've always been a tech girl. I never felt like I had the chops to be on stage," I answered truthfully. </p><p>"Life is short. You should give it a shot when you wake up." It was at that moment that we both realised he was still holding my hands and he released them as if they were burning hot. Cotton candy pink peppered the tips of his hair as he looked away. I couldn't help but giggle as I pointed at his hair.</p><p>"I like your hair. It turns pretty colors with your emotions. What's the pink about," I asked, fighting back the urge to card my fingers through his hair. He humphed and tried covering his hair.</p><p>"Nothing! It's nothing. Don't worry about it." The blush that spread over his face answered my question when he refused to. Embarrassment or being flustered. I could sympathize. At least I think that's what it meant. I didn't want to push it, so I changed the subject.</p><p>"So, BJ, what is there to do as a ghost... or... whatever I am?" He scoffed and threw his hands in the air.</p><p>"Honestly, not jack shit. I spend most of my time floating around, trying to get upset spirits to hire me to teach them to scare the living out of their spaces." I cocked my head inquisitively. </p><p>"Ok. So why are you hanging around with me?" He paused at that, his eyes scanning the ceiling as if it would deliver him the perfect answer. A few moments passed before he finally answered.</p><p>"I don't know, babes. I just wanna make sure you get out of here or something. It's not your time yet, ya know?" The door to my room flew open and my sister rushed in, her husband and son following behind. Wait how much time had passed? My sister lived two states away. There's no way she could've gotten here in an hour or two. I looked to the clock on the wall and saw a full day had already passed since I'd been brought into the hospital. </p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Apologies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hey all! I'm so sorry about this big ass delay. A lot more responsibilities popped into my life (in the form of three ferrets) and it's gotten way too busy. Also, I've been focusing way more on my mental health and getting that squared away. The story still exists in paper form! I just need to copy it down onto my laptop. I'm so sorry for the delay all.</p>
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